Their Decay
by Caruncle
Summary: Zelena/Hades one shot collection. 2nd one shot uploaded 'Flowers'
1. Soulmate

It's been such a long time since I've written but after watching OUAT I couldn't help myself. Thought the dynamic between Zelena and Hades was so great last week and they have so much potential as a pairing so I decided to write a quick one shot. It's from Hades POV

Hades x Zelena

Contains spoilers for 5x16

Thanks for reading

 **Soulmate**

If there was one thing Hades knew it was souls. Souls were his trade, his life, but in the eternity he'd been trapped here he'd never known one like hers.

Hers was different.

It was like his in some ways. It was cracked and contorted in ways he understood. Souls do not become damaged by themselves- they are fragile and like his, hers was ripped and crumpled by rejection before she even got the chance to understand it. He understood her need for revenge; revenge came naturally. Love seemed impossible- love was for those who were good enough and the world had spent too long telling them both they weren't.

Until he'd met her he'd thought he was alone in these feelings. For a long time he believed the prophecy of true love to be impossible, some cruel joke from the Gods to keep him down, to do the job they would never be strong enough to do, because who better to watch over lost souls than one who is lost himself?

But then he'd heard about her. He'd used all magic he'd saved from Olympus to see the woman who the vision had promised would free him from his fate. Until he'd seen her he'd thought his fate was devising revenge because he'd long given up on love- but then he'd seen her face. Her magnificently beautiful face.

Those twenty four hours above the ground with her had been the happiest of his life. For a second on that damn bicycle he wasn't the Lord of the Underworld anymore, he was just a boy having a wonderful time with a girl. At his lowest moments all he had to do was close his eyes and her laughter filled his ears again and for a brief time, accompanied by his memories of her, he was at peace.

He didn't blame her for not trusting him. He understood, he wouldn't have trusted him either. Why would you trust anybody when all the world had ever done was to screw you over? But it still hurt that she didn't- because as fragile as it felt, he knew after that day that he loved her. He loved her so much that he couldn't help but wait for her.

He just didn't realise it would take so long.

As the time passed he set about making her a kingdom. Grand gestures in the hope that one day she would return to him and see that he was more than empty words. His paradise would be proof of his undying love. He tried lots of different approaches but they all felt wrong. It was hard to build perfection from broken souls but even as he constructed palaces from ash and dust, oceans from regret and mountains from betrayal it all felt wrong. It wasn't perfect for her.

Only when he found a way to watch her again did he realise her paradise was the same as his. His was Olympus. Hers Storybrooke- the worlds that fate had denied them. So with a flick of his wrist the generic fairy tale ending he'd spent a lifetime creating was gone because that was wrong. She didn't want to be a princess. She was better than that; all she wanted was what she felt she was owed.

So he built her her own Storybrooke. He was adamant every detail must be perfect and with the admission of each new soul he would try to glimmer a new shred of information to make it as accurate as possible. He needed it to be perfect because for once in her life she deserved some perfection, because after all, on that joyous day she had given him his.

But he was trapped down here; forced to watch as her baby, her only chance happiness, was ripped from her. The night he watched her crying he lit up the sky so forcibly the clock tower fell. Why had he tortured the pirate so cruelly? Why had he taken so much pleasure from his downfall? Because the pirate had helped make her life hell and for that he got everything he deserved.

He knew she was complex. He knew that her actions could be easily labelled as evil but the people who labelled them hadn't had the lives they had had. She was imperfect. The pieces of her soul were so increasingly fragmented that he had no idea where he would even start trying to help her put them back together but all he knew was that he so needed to try.

And even if her soul turned out to be irreparable he didn't care. He didn't love her for who she could be. He loved her for who she was because he was who he was. He knew neither of them would be perfect but who really needs perfect? All they needed was perfect for each other and if he was sure of one thing that's what they were. He knew souls. He knew they were.

So he waited for her in her perfect kingdom which was hers to claim whenever she was ready. He had started to lose hope- to think she would never come- almost giving in to his bitterness completely but then by some miracle she was here.

He'd followed her through the woods as she ran with her baby girl. He didn't have the courage to approach her but he was ready to fend off any of those self-titled heroes if they came between mother and child. He watched the tender moments she shared with her baby, watching as the small wiggly bundle effortlessly started to patch up the holes in her soul. She had never looked more beautiful.

He'd left her in peace then, suddenly aware that she deserved to be truly alone with her daughter. It was their time. He would get his turn.

And he did. He saw her in the street. God, she was beautiful, so very beautiful but she wasn't the same. The defiance had left her eyes. He wanted so badly to give it back to her, to make her believe in herself again. It wasn't the consequence of her wickedness he loved; it was the magnificent spirit that came with it. The drive, the ambition, the skill that whisked together created her unbeatable beauty. Other people were stupid, she wasn't broken then- she was perfect.

As they spoke he couldn't help but reach out for her hand. He held it so lightly, so tentatively because he didn't want to restrain her, to force her to do anything. It had to be her choice. They had to be her choice. But he couldn't help but touch her- it was the only thing that made him sure he wasn't dreaming.

As she left him in the street he had to do everything in his power not to combust again. He had to be a patient, forcing her would never work- she was too wonderful to be influenced by him and he knew more than capable of doing anything alone. He just wanted to let her know she didn't have to- she didn't have to be alone- not if she didn't want to be.

It was four painful days that she made him wait. He'd had to physically lock himself in his mausoleum to prevent from following her again. He wanted to know how she was, if she was winning, if she'd seen her daughter again. All these questions swam round his head, intertwining with the memory of the touch of her fingers. He paced, he cursed, he tortured himself into believing she wouldn't come. She could never trust him.

But on that fourth night he heard the familiar creak of the elevator shaft opening. He looked up, initially not believing his eyes when he saw her standing there. She was so far from herself he barely recognised her. Her face was tear-stained and her soul, well her soul was barely there at all. Those fools had broken her. He felt the anger boiling up within him as she fell to her knees. He never thought he'd see her cry. They would pay. They would all pay.

He walked up to her carefully and knelt down next to her shaking body. She apologised but she didn't know where else to go. She needed her daughter and they wouldn't let her near her. He placed his arm gently around her shoulder and instantly she pulled him into her and before long he was holding her as she sobbed into him.

He pulled her sobbing frame tighter into his body. He would hold her until she didn't want to be held anymore. He promised they would sort this. They would do it together.

Her sobs became quieter and eventually he felt her breathing relax. She mumbled an apology into his jacket but didn't move a muscle- in fact, if anything, she pulled herself closer into him. Finally her breathing slowed and she looked up at him. Her eyes were so tired and yet still so terrified that she was finally letting someone in but he wanted her to know he wasn't just anyone. He was the one who would always be here. He was her one.

He told it was important she rest and she nodded before returning her head to the crook in his neck. It was minutes before he realised she had fallen asleep. For a while he daren't move her. She looked, for the first time in a long time, at peace. But as she settled he scooped her up his arms and carried her across to his bed. He placed her gently on the sheets and covered her with a blanket.

He looked down at her beautiful face and even though her soul was fractured he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by her perfection. She was everything. He watched her sleep for a long time and he realised he had never felt this peaceful. The world was suddenly still, only filled with the sound of her breathing. He could watch her forever.

After a while he felt guilty. She deserved her privacy, and so unwillingly he forced himself to tear his gaze from her sleeping frame. As he went to leave the room he realised he may never have this chance again and so returned to her side and gingerly lifted her hand from under the blanket and bought it gently to his lips. She was everything to him, she really, truly was but he knew he had to let go now. She needed to sleep.

He closed the door quietly. The serenity her presence had instilled on him was gone. They would pay for breaking her like this. . No-one would ever hurt her again; he would make sure of it.


	2. Flowers

**So I decided I would write another one shot. I really love these two. Thank you to everyone who read the last one and thank you very much for your reviews- really does mean a lot.**

 **Spoilers for 5x17**

 **Zelena x Hades**

 **Flowers**

She had always loved flowers.

As a child she would allow herself to get lost for hours in the meadows behind her house, wading deeper and deeper into the thick undergrowth. She went to the parts of the meadows where she was dwarfed by giant daffodils, and caressed by roses.

Flowers never judged her.

Flowers never asked questions.

As she grew so did the world around her. She returned to the meadows one day to see they weren't hers anymore- a town of travelling men had moved onto them, trampling them to make way for their new lives. She watched as they hacked away at her beautiful paradise. She watched as they burnt it all to the ground. She watched as they called it all weeds and listened as they called it a waste of space.

She wept the whole way home.

Perhaps if she'd been allowed to keep her happy place the wickedness wouldn't have engulfed her soul. Perhaps if she'd had one more evening amongst the daisies she wouldn't have cut her father's throat. Perhaps they would have been her salvation.

Perhaps.

He'd been the only person she'd ever told about the meadows. On the way to finding Dorothy on that damn bicycle they'd come into a clearing that was covered in a sea of bluebells. It was the first time she'd seen so many flowers together since her childhood and she'd been unable to hide her joy. He had noticed, it would have been impossible not to and so stopped the bike. He parked it against the tree and leant down to pick her one. It was the first time in a long time anyone had given her anything beautiful voluntarily. She accepted it, brought it to her nose and all she could say through her smile was how much she loved flowers.

She had long given up on a world of flowers.

Flowers didn't grow in the darkness.

Apart from this one. She knew it was broken- wilted and damaged beyond obvious repair but it was still here, proving that even in the darkest place in all the realms light was still possible.

She'd placed it in a jar in the centre of the table. She knew it was dead but she still gave it water on the off chance it wasn't, after all, it deserved every god damn opportunity to prove her otherwise.

Initially she focused her magic on it; attempting to nurture it and conjure the life back into its wilted petals, but the magic was unfamiliar to her. Nurture wasn't exactly in her nature. After a number of failed enchantments she realised she didn't need to change it- it was beautiful the way it was because it had grown here in the first place. It was trying to be beautiful in a world where beauty seemed impossible.

She stopped her spells and let it be.

In the middle of the night she heard a knock at the door. Before she even opened it she knew it was him. He stood on the porch steps. He told her he was having trouble sleeping. He told her that her being this close but not close enough was driving him increasingly mad. At least when they were in different realms he was forced to have boundaries but now she was here in his world, or rather in the world he had created for her and he couldn't stay away. He hung his head in shame because he hated the fact that he was troubling her but he just needed to see her, at the very least hear her voice and then he would go if she wanted him to.

She looked at his broken soul. It was fractured in the same way as hers was. The stories made it all so simple- good and evil were so black and white and she knew he was never going to be the white knight in the stories but white was boring- white was unilateral- she didn't want white. She wanted him, with his grey eyes and contorted soul because she knew he would never seek to change her. If they wanted to be 'evil' they could be 'evil' or if they wanted to try to become better they could do that too… but what label they had was unimportant, the only thing that mattered was they would love each other anyway

Some people would call it toxic but she knew this was because they would never understand. A pure heart would never understand what it is like to carry darkness and that perhaps redemption is not always necessary to find love because in a way love is redemption; or at least the only redemption you need.

She steps back and gestures him in. He looks at the decaying flower in the centre of the table and is filled with immense sadness that he can't give her a bouquet, that the best he can do is yet again sub-par. He gestures to it and tells her one day it will be different- one day he'll plant her a whole meadow, a whole realm of flowers which he'll make sure is never ruined or burned. It will be all for her. It will always be all for her.

For a second the past all becomes irrelevant. It doesn't matter what realm they are in or whether they are above or below ground, whether they are technically alive or dead because it is just them, their souls occupying a shared airspace. They look at each other for a long time before he steps a little closer. He clicks his fingers and she hears music start to play. It is quiet at first; the notes of the piano trickle slowly into the room. He offers her his hand and they start to dance.

It is a little clumsy at first but they soon find their rhythm. The tune intensifies and suddenly it as though there is colour in the room again. The darkness is gone and he is spinning her in the light. She feels her hair come free, she feels her feet unsteady slightly and her brain is unbalanced but she doesn't care because in that second she knows he would catch her, she knows he would.

The music slows again and she feels herself moving closer into his body. His hand leaves hers and places itself on the small of her back. They are so close now, his face inches from hers. Their legs intertwined, their pelvises joined to the rhythm of the song and when she feels his breath softly on her neck she feels the nerve impulse run up her spine.

Their gazes meet as the music stops. She cannot stop looking at him.

They do not notice the flower on the table. They do not notice that in the light it has sprouted new petals. They do not notice as its fragrance lingers in the previously stale air. They notice nothing but each other.

They stand still.

She leans in and kisses him gently.

The darkness vanishes.

The light is overwhelming.

They are free.


End file.
